All's Hell that Ends Hell...
by PikaCheeka
Summary: Draco heads off to avenge his father, but he ends up avenging a whole lot more...a perfect stand alone but a possible sequel to 'It Bars the Gates of Death' PG13 for angst, language, blood, and death. A final battle fic, but with a major twist...


This is the sequel to 'It Bars the Gates of Death'. Although it makes perfect sense as a stand alone, if you like Draco, that is. And who doesn't??? J/k... Draco goes to avenge his father, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Cho close behind. However, he ends up avenging much more then he bargained for....

This one, once again, has a sad ending. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Draco's POV

PG13 again for minor language, angst, blood, and death. Sorry, Draco has several language spurts, hey, he's sixteen, what do you expect?

I do mention the Malfoy family secret and even say what it is. So it may be a good idea to read Dark Blood first.

The collage thing, I don't know why I wrote that. Sorry if you hate the idea, tell me if you love it. I may get bored someday and write about it. It's barely in ere though.

All's Hell that Ends Hell......

By PikaCheeka

Blood.

Arrogant black blood.

My father's blood.

My blood.

Who died there?

He died here.

I died here.

I woke up with a half scream that I stifled in my pillow. I had been asleep not an hour and I was already having nightmares. About what? What was it? My father's arrogant black blood seeping all over the floor.....

It can't be true! I said to myself quickly, sitting up. It was cold for a day in June. Almost too cold for the nightrobes. Cold as death.

I wish it wasn't true. But I knew that it was. Unless...I slid out of bed and shoved my hand beneath it. My hand hit something almost immediately. I pulled it out with a burst of angry fear.

It was the sword of Salazar Slytherin. Once Voldemort's, now mine. Seeing as he left it in my dying father's side only six weeks before. I had tried to forget it, but my last words to him still rang in my mind. About how I would avenge him. But Voldemort has completely vanished. There have been no sightings of him in those six weeks. Now the school year was ending, and he still has not come. Coward. 

I looked down at the blade.

There was still his blood on it. I raised it to the moonlight and squinted, trying to see. It was either deep deep red or black, and for some reason, it screamed arrogance. Malfoy blood. So it was my blood at the same time. Without thinking, I carefully raised my hand to touch it.

It was still wet.

The common room still obtained that uncomfortable silence the moment I entered. Everyone just shut up when Is et foot in, afraid to speak in my presence, seeing as I had been extremely rude and angry since the death.

Nobody understood why, and I hated them for that. It wasn't their father, and they hadn't seen him die, hadn't watched him, hadn't been the reason.

I bit back the tears that threatened to fall. I cried when he was dying. But when he was dying, he was still alive. So I have never cried when he was really and truly dead. And I couldn't now.

I sighed, knowing I still blamed myself for it all.

It was a Monday, which meant classes. Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors first. They have totally avoided me since the death. The accident, so they call it.

I scooped up the days' classes' books and shoved them into my bag. When I was sure I had them all, I slumped off toward the door leading to the grounds, hoping to avoid anyone heading there. That's why I left ten minutes early.

Sure enough, the hall was empty as were the grounds. It seemed to take eternity to cross them to get to Hagrid's hut.

To make a point that students were arriving, I flung my bag against the door. It made a loud crash and echoed faintly. I sighed and leaned against the tiny house, waiting impatiently for Hagrid to arrive.

He did. A little sooner then I had hoped. "Draco?" he asked, looking horribly disappointed. I guess he was expecting Harry. I glowered at him and said nothing.

"Is everyone comin' 'ere now?" he asked.

I faked a smile at him and continued to say nothing. Now that I think of it, I don't even know why I made it known to him that I was here.

He looked bewildered, then looked past me and shouted. "Hey 'Arry!" 

I jerked around and was Harry, Ron, and Hermione approaching, looking at me oddly.

"What are you doing here?' Ron finally asked.

I shrugged and slid against the wall until I was on the other side. I didn't want anybody bothering me today. I was in a viscous mood. Who knew what I'd do to them.

"Just leave him..." Hermione sighed. "You know how he's been since the accident."

"It wasn't an accident!" I suddenly shouted and regretted it immediately. Why did I always have to open my big mouth?

"Then what was it?" Ron asked.

"He killed him out of cold blood..." I hissed, coming around to face him. I hated him. He was also nearly a head taller then me. He was one of the tallest kids in the grade. I was maybe as tall as Harry, who was average. That was better then nothing, seeing as I used to be the smallest.

Ron shrugged and backed away. Hermione burst out laughing. How unlike her. Maybe she was laughing at the look on Ron's face, because if she was laughing at me...

Harry only nodded. I hated him more then the others. I wanted no sympathy from any of them. I needed no sympathy, but definitely not from them.

I turned and without a backward glance, I headed back to the castle, not caring if I was being mistaken for skipping classes.

The common room was empty, as I expected. I was mad, mad at the whole world. Mad at Harry. Mad at Ron. Mad at Hermione. Mad at Hagrid. Mad at Voldemort. Even mad at my father for leaving me.

"Damn it all!" I suddenly shouted in fury and threw my bag against the wall with all my might. It landed with a tremendous crash and knocked a rock out. I watched it break loose and crumble to the floor, covering the area around with a fine coat of dust. I watched it settle and stood there for five minutes after before remembering what I was doing.

I ran up to my room and shoved my hand under my bed again. I grabbed the sword/dagger and looked at it for a long time. Was it true that only the heirs could touch these? Did that mean I was a heir of Slytherin? I doubted it. My father could have told me. If he was alive, that is.

His blood was still there, wet, gleaming, red-black. Without thinking, I grabbed the blade. I yelped and pulled back almost immediately. It was sharp, very sharp. It had cut my hand open just by touching it. Now my blood was on the sword. I sighed and wiped it off with my cut hand, not thinking again. I also wiped off my father's blood. It was scaring me.

I noticed that my blood was the same color as his. Just not as bright. I smirked, knowing what it was. It was the secret. The Malfoy family secret. The fact that we all part vampire. 

I wonder what Voldemort would taste like? I suddenly laughed. I was unable to stop for a very long time. What a stupid idea. Like I would ever be able to hurt him in any way, shape, or form. He'd have me impaled on a different sword or his wand before I could introduce myself, like he needed my name. I was just another rebellious Malfoy to kill.

I jerked upright again, narrowing my eyes dangerously. I lifted one of hands to my face and starred. My hands were always very narrow, with long, thin, tapered fingers. Yet it is obvious they are masculine. Not the hands of a murderer. The mirror across the room caught a gleam in my eye and changed the entire way I looked. Deadly.

I wanted nothing more then to kill Voldemort.

I stood up and surveyed the room, making sure I truly was alone. I was, and the class didn't end for a while yet. 

My father had a super high IQ, many say I do too, if I try. And right now I am going to try. Try and find a way to get past Voldemort and kill him as he killed my father.

I wished I were a Death Eater for a split second so I could call him. 

Sometimes wishes are dangerous things.

I jumped onto my bed and lay there, starring at the ceiling, thinking.

_"Draco? Do you remember that time when I took you to the muggle world for the first time?" he asked me, sitting on the edge of my bed._

I nodded. 

_There was a time back when I was younger, perhaps only six or seven, when my father bought me out into the muggle world for the first time._

He took me all kinds of places, then sulked in the corner while I ran around. I noticed that the happier I was there, the less happy he was. It was very unnerving. I wondered why the both of us couldn't enjoy ourselves, and why one always had to be mad. Then I realized, my father would never be happy here. For this was the muggle world, which he hated so much.

Finally, I walked back up to him and sat down at his feet. I looked up at him and he looked down, smiling slightly.

Encouraged, I said "I hate the muggles, and all their world..." he laughed then. Then he picked me up and took me home. And never bought me back to the same place ever again.

"I'm sorry about that..."

"What do you have to be sorry about?" I shrugged. He ignored me.

"Do you remember when I first taught you dark magic?"

I nodded, smiling. "And about us being part vampire..."

He laughed. I love it when he laughs. He so rarely does

"Remember the time I got mad at you?" he asked suddenly, stopping my laughter with an angry halt.

"Yes..." I sighed, wishing I didn't have to remember it. Back when I was nine, we had a fight about something. A broomstick, I think. And I had told him I hated him. He had gotten so upset that he locked himself up in his room for about a week. And when he came out, he avoided me for a month afterward. 

He's so touchy about people hating him. I wonder why he is a Death Eater.

"And do you remember when your mother vanished for a time?"

Once again, I nodded. 

Back when I was ten, just before I started at Hogwarts, Mother disappeared. She left only a single note, saying that she wasn't good enough to be a mother and that she was leaving.

I remember my father locking himself up in her room for hours on end. They have separate bedrooms. And he snapped at me whenever I tried to talk to him. He left me in the care of Dobby until she showed up at our doorstep again, totally guilt ridden. She said she continually had nightmares that Father had killed himself. 

She never noticed how he hid his wrists from her for a month or so afterward. I knew, however, and it scared me badly.

"Were you really trying to kill yourself?" I asked.

He didn't answer for a time. Then he nodded slightly and sighed. "Then I realized that you needed a father more then anything..." he trailed off.

I shuddered, knowing that if I wasn't sick when I was young, he would be dead now...

"Draco!" Pansy shrieked, grabbing my shoulder and twisting my arm backward. I jerked awake, realizing that I had fallen asleep. I sank back down again, trying to remember what it was. But it was already distant. Fading before my eyes.

"What?" I snapped "Hey! What are you doing in the boys dormitory???" I realized with a shock.

"Hey, you're still wearing everything." She muttered, glaring at me. 

I so do not get her. 

"Fine, what is it?" I sighed.

"The ceremony for the seventh years? It's starting in a few hours!"

"I notice you said a few hours, not a few minutes." I sighed. "Good night..."

"No! But the dance is right after! You have to get ready!"

"Dance? What dance? It'll take me two minutes to get ready..."

"I can't go with a slob."

"Who are you going with?" I mumbled, already falling back into that half awake state of mind.

"Who else but you?" she shouted.

"What?" I jumped up. "Are you talking about???"

She smiled and flounced from the room.

I scowled and stood up. I had never told her I was going with her, what was she talking about? Probably just bragging, I've seen the way the girls have been looking at me. Stupid idiots, who gives a crap about romance and love? My father told me to avoid it.

By now I was too awake, so I went down to the common room, which was full of first through sixth years chattering away. Silence fell when I entered. They were all talking about the dance, not that they are even going. I sneered at them, then left the Slytherin wing.

The hall was surprisingly empty. I slunk down it and ended up in the library. I absentmindedly wandered over to the restricted section. Dumbledore was there, to my shock. He stiffened when he heard my footsteps and whirled around.

"Hello Draco..." he sighed. "Sorry, I've been a bit jumpy ever since You-Know-Who has returned.

I stared at him. Dumbledore, jumpy? And why did he say You-Know-Who? He always said Voldemort. "You mean Voldemort?"

"Yes." He said slowly. "I didn't know if I would frighten you though, after the accident."

"Enough already about the accident. It's over. He's dead, I'm pissed. Nothing else to it." I turned and stormed off, surprised at myself for swearing at the headmaster. He did nothing though, I doubted he would.

When I was a good distance away, I stopped and realized Madame Pince was gone. On her desk was a note. I looked around then picked it up.

Dear Dumbledore,

Can you watch over the library while I prepare for my speech? Many seventh years haven't returned their books yet. Good day.

~Pince

I laughed harshly. What a stupid speech that will be. I turned the corner around her desk in a sudden rush to get to the restricted section, wondering if he was gone yet. I wanted to look at stuff there. 

I smashed head on into somebody. Without thinking, I grabbed his/her arm and twisted it back. "What do you think you're doing?" I snapped. I am in a very bad mood, and I don't know why.

She squealed and glared at me.

"Hermione?" I gasped.

"Yes Draco, it is me. Not would you be so kind as to let go of me?" her eyes were flashing dangerously. I let go, then shoved my hands into my pockets.

"Why aren't you getting ready for the dance?" I drawled. Might as well enjoy myself while I can.

"Why aren't you, Mr. I'm so Cute and Everyone Loves Me Jerk?" she snarled.

"Aren't we in a pleasant mood?" I grinned. Then I added, "You think I'm cute? Pity I can't return that statement."

"What are you doing here?" she ignored me, but I noticed she was blushing furiously.

"What are you?" I shot back.

"I'm..." she trailed off and looked at the floor. "Getting books, buying them off the school, for Harry."

"In the restricted section?"

"Well, you can't them in bookstores unless you're eighteen. And he needs them."

"What would he want with dark arts?" I shouted.

"Kill Voldemort." She whispered.

I snorted, suddenly feeling guilty. "He's not the only one. Why buy them? Just steal 'em. Nobody will know the difference."

"Steal them?" she squeaked. "Why? You have money!"

"A ha..." I said dryly. "Pince has a crush on my father, what would she do to us?"

"Your father..."

I froze. I could feel the slight color in my face draining dramatically. "He's dead. That's right..." I said faintly. I could see black in the corners of my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was faint in front of her.

"Sorry..." she reached out and patted my arm. I jerked away, then stumbled back and collapsed against the wall, biting back the black.

"Are you all right?" she gasped.

"Yea..." I moaned. "Just go away..."

"You look faint."

"I am, now leave me alone..." I curled up and buried my face in my arms. A habit of mine since I was little, babyish, but effective. Most of the time.

"Get up..." she sighed. "You can help me find the right books. Seeing as you seem to know what they are..."

"How do you know what I know?"

"Intuition. Get up."

I swore and sat up. She was grinning.

"...It's a bit obvious you know what they are. That's what you're doing here, right?" she smiled.

"Uh..." I stammered. "No...I have plenty of my own."

"Really?" she crossed her arms and stood up as straight as she could so she was my height.

"Yes." I said indignantly.

"Well then. It looks like we don't have to buy them. Harry, Ron and I could borrow yours."

"I need them, now get out of my way..." I growled, wanting her to leave me alone.

"Tell me we can use them."

"Move."

"Tell me."

"I'll knock you over. Move out of the way..." I said quietly, fingering my wand in my pocket, wanting more then anything to put the leglocker curse on her.

She suddenly threw up her hands and sighed loudly. "Fine! You go ahead! Go avenge your father! Get yourself killed alone. Don't care about anyone else, do you? Other people lost family too. You're not the only one! How would you like it if Harry wouldn't let you help him kill Voldemort?" she cried.

I stopped. She was right, I wouldn't like it. But this was my own battle. I shook my head and walked on.

I left her standing there. I could hear a slight sniff, meaning she was about to cry. If she wasn't already, that is.

I returned to the common room and decided that I might as well get ready for the dance. What else was there to do? I mean, what were the chances of me meeting Voldemort at a school dance? I knew the killing curse, the leglocker curse, the disarming spell, the crucious curse, and I knew how to use a sword, which I had. What more did I really need to know?

I slunk up the stairs, hoping to avoid any girl. I was lucky, everyone was in their own dorms, getting ready. My dorm, to my surprise, was empty as well. All the better, that meant everyone else was off doing something else. And I could be alone. I flopped down onto my bed with another loud sigh, letting all the air entirely out of me before bothering to inhale. The room was silent, un-nervingly so.

After a minute, I sat up and grabbed my trunk. I flipped it open and pulled out all my Dark Arts books. Then I went over to the dresser and pulled out my most expensive clothes. One a cloak of six hundred galleons. Enough to go to Egypt and back for ten. It was black on one side and the inside was green. The black was of dragons hide, expensive within itself. The inside was unicorn's fur, died green. Since it's against the law to kill one, this one guy had to wander around a forest full of them, picking up the fur they shed. It's kind of funny, actually. It also has by name embroidered into it with silver thread. Then I grabbed my 'designer pants', so they're called. Narrow, not tight exactly, but narrow. Many call them tight, but I say screw them. They don't even know how thin I really am. 

A long time ago, I was in the muggle world with my father, and somebody shot at us because he suspected vampirism. Well, he missed my heart because of my baggy shirt. Lucky for him too, or he would have been taken into that torture chamber beneath our house. He very nearly was anyway.

The pants, too, are black. Then my shirt, dark dark green, long sleeved, slightly low neck. My boots were black as well, narrow, slightly pointed. I had worn them only once before, seeing as I had well over fifty pairs of boots. I wondered how comfortable they would be to dance in, as if I really would dance. More like sulk in the corner.

In ten minutes, I was completely ready for the dance. Boredom was overtaking me, so I used a major overdose of cologne. Make Pansy swoon, maybe faint. Then I wouldn't have to deal with her.

I sat down on my bed again and began flipping through the books, not really reading, but I had to do something.

"Draco!" 

I jerked back into reality. I had been daydreaming about killing Voldemort and laughing in Potter's face. I sighed and closed my eyes again, wanting to go back there.

It was Pansy, again. 

"What is it?" I mumbled without opening my eyes.

"The ceremony is in five minutes. Let's go." She grabbed my arm and pulled. I groaned and stand up. Sop much for making her faint. Most of my cologne had rubbed off from the two hours of lying on the bed. This wasn't the first time I had lost it and fallen asleep since my father's death.

She ran from the room, squealing and bragging to her friends about how she was going with me. If I had it my way, I wouldn't be going at all. I hate dances.

On the way out the door, I grabbed the sword of Slytherin and slipped it into the sheath, then attached it to my belt. 

Without a thought.

The room was immensely crowded, due to the fact that every girl had flowing gowns and every guy had long capes. Nobody else had black though. Mourning, I would say I was in mourning. Then everyone would move away from me in disgust. Good, let them hate me.

"Attention please!" Dumbledore called from above. Silence fell in seconds.

I swore loudly for the heck of it. Everyone stared at me for a second. I smirked back, unable to help myself. I was glad to be my own self again for a time, even if they hated it. Then they sighed and turned away again. Well. All the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws, most like us, and the Slytherins, hid snickers under their hands.

"This is the last year, the year to end all years. In one week, you will be packing up your belongings and moving out into that wide world out there. Muggle jobs and wizard jobs await you. Money and families will come in time. As will Voldemort. Will you join him, or will you conquer your fears and turn him down?"

Without thinking, I shouted, "Turn the bastard down!"

This time, even Dumbledore laughed, though nervously, as if Voldemort was right around the corner. "Well, that's' one way to put it." Then he saw the look the other teachers were giving him, and he cleared his throat loudly and continued.

"I am sure all of you will turn him away, on the other hand, you know how manipulative he can be. As everything in this world is nowadays.

"If you do not know, they are creating a Hogwarts collage. It should be complete in a year..."

A loud cheer went up here.

"If all goes well, you may send in an admission form this summer to ensure a spot. The teacher shall be different, but Lupin will be teaching..."

Another cheer went up.

"There is only one reason for this. The world is changing. It seems that people are getting younger as the years go on...."

A boo followed this. I laughed harshly and nudged Pansy in the ribs. She scowled at me.

"So several other important people and I have decided to give the fellows who wish it several more years of schools and friendships before worrying about romances and real jobs. For the ones who want it, that is.

"So, I suppose this isn't really goodbye for you who are going to collage...But for the ones who are, this is it."

I scowled and slumped against the table. I would definitely go to the collage. I didn't want to have to go live with my mother until I was twenty.

"O yes...one more thing about this I have forgotten. It is limited to one hundred students...."

Everyone groaned.

"Therefore, you must pass a test to get in."

I grinned, knowing my high IQ would kick heavy butt in the exam. Tests are what I do best.

"Now, on with the ceremony..."

At that moment, there was a loud crash and blackness. I leapt up and reached for my sword. But the light returned in seconds. I blinked several times, then heard people screaming.

"What the?..." I gasped, turning around. 

Where Dumbledore had stood he no longer was.

Voldemort, on the other hand, was now there.

By now everyone was screaming and all that. Without thinking, I jumped up on the table and starting yelling every swear I ever learned at him. But he couldn't hear me above everyone else. Perhaps this was a good thing, seeing as what I was saying was rather extreme. I don't think he would stand for my calling his mother names, not to mention himself.

"Silence you idiots!" he roared. Silence fell immediately. He grinned, showing his snake-like fangs. I ran my tongue over my own fangs. 

"As you can see, I am not Dumbledore. I did a good job, did I not? The collage may be real, but not if I can help it. Dumbledore, you ask? He is dead."

Everyone screamed again. I thought briefly of when he was in the library, acting oddly. I wanted to tell him he did a bad job. I didn't though. I sat down, polishing my sword while humming the funeral march.

Mine or his, who knew? Most likely mine. It seemed to be a curse, Malfoys died young. My father at age forty-two and his father at age thirty-four. And me at age sixteen. How pleasant. 

"I do not need Polyjuice Potion to become another. I can be anyone here, or somebody dead..." I jerked my head up and glared at him. He was talking slowly, deliberately slow, to scare people.

I scowled at him, but he couldn't see. I shrugged and went back to polishing my sword. My father's blood was now on the tablecloth and on my shirt, but who cares now? What are the chances of this school standing even another hour?

By this point, the teacher had gotten their acts together. Macgonagall was running around, hissing orders to the head boy and girl and the prefects. Unfortunately, I was a prefect, I had forgotten.

"Draco, get everyone back to the common room straight away. Don't let anyone out for anything, you understand?"

I sighed and nodded. She started to say something else, but it was broken by an earsplitting shriek. I glanced up quickly and saw Voldemort there, a young girl crumpled on ground before him.

"Cho!" somebody screamed.

I gasped. Cho was the most popular girl in the school. Voldemort must have known that, he had to know that.

"Get back to the common rooms!" Snape roared, setting off a few firecrackers from his wand. "We'll take care of Cho!"

"You will not!" Voldemort snapped, his eyes glinting. "For this girls life, I want..." his eyes roamed the room, searching out every corner. They lingered at me, but moved on o the now empty Gryffindor table. "Harry Potter to come and meet me at the highest tower in less then an hours time."

"But all the Gryffindors already left!" a Ravenclaw cried.

"Well then. He didn't hear me, and this girl will die."

"Who cares? Let's get out of here..." Pansy grabbed my arm and pulled. I yanked away and shot a look of daggers at her. She sighed and turned away with the rest of the Slytherins. I followed, after taking one last glance at the room. At Voldemort laughing. At Cho sobbing. At the teachers in a group, discussing something. 

Then Voldemort and Cho vanished, bringing the talking to silence.

The Common Room was awful, luckily for me. It wouldn't be so obvious when I slunk off. Which was what I was planning. 

I ran up to my room and grabbed my normal robes. Should I change? Or should I not? Pants might be easier to duck and run in. On the other hand, it would also be very informal. My father had always told me that impressions are very important in battles. I don't know why, must be an ancient Malfoy law.

In the end, I threw the robes on the floor and re-entered the common room again, looking dead serious. Pansy was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness.

With a sudden burst of speed, I lunged for the door and slipped through it. The babble instantly died, and there was silence. I waited for a moment, expecting somebody to come and yell at me. But nobody came I didn't know whether I was relieved or upset. 

I wandered down the hall, grateful that my boots were quiet. There wasn't a soul around. After a few minutes, I glanced up and discovered that I was in front of the Gryffindor Common Room. Ginny was right outside, looking ashen.

"Draco!" she moaned, grabbing my arm and pulling me down to her height.

"Shut up..." I hissed, pulling away.

"Have you seen Ron? Or Harry? Or Hermione? They're all gone! And we can't leave and I don't know what's going on!"

"Damn, you mean you don't know? Voldemort's back, in this school! He kidnapped Cho and wants Harry's life in exchange. I bet you they left to go fight him. Idiots!" I shouted the last word and bolted for the Great hall, Ginny close behind. After a minutes, I turned around and waved her away. She sulked for a minutes, then ran after me again.

"Go!" I yelled, brandishing my sword. "This isn't a job for little girls. It's just a way to die, not get away..." I narrowed my eyes and bared my fangs. She whimpered and shrank away. "Just save Ron, please, and Harry and Hermione..."

I growled and moved on, at a much slower pace now. I could hear her crying quietly behind me, but I didn't want to turn around. Lest I chickened out and bought her back to her common room. Then I would surely return to mine.

I arrived near the astronomy tower and found Macgonagall and Snape guarding it. They hadn't noticed me, so I dove behind a suit of armor and froze, trying to hear what they were saying.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were there, so I noticed after a moment.

"Please!" Ron cried. "We have to go!"

Snape sighed. "He just wants Harry!"

I heard Minerva smack him here. "We can't let anyone go you dimwit!"

I snorted softly, unable to help myself. It was kind of funny...

Hermione said something I couldn't make out. I leaned closer. 

Then I slipped. Without thinking, I jumped out. Thinking fast, I cried, "Voldemort! In the Slytherin room! I don't know how he knew the password! Maybe somebody told him. He's ransacking the place, looking for Harry! And the Gryffindor password!" I finished lamely.

Minerva paled. "Snape, you stay here." She turned into a cat and was gone, racing off down the corridor.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione glanced at me, seeing the sword at my side and the wand in my hand. Hermione smiled weakly and turned away again. Snape stared at me, a look of shock on his face. "The sword of Salazar?" he said weakly.

I nodded slowly.

"I need to go lie down..." he moaned. "I'm having a nightmare."

"I believe you are." I said quickly. "Quick, try to wake up. The everyone will be alive again and this will never have happened."

Harry glared at me, then a look of dawning came over his face.

"Yea, go lie down a bit, have some butterbeer." He added.

"How kind of you, harry." He snapped.

"Seriously..." I grinned.

He sighed and threw up his arms. "Fine. Draco, don't let them through. I can trust you, can I not?"

"You can." That was true, I would go, not them. Then he was gone.

Ron looked at me. "Well, Draco, I guess you have a way with words."

"Yea," Harry shrugged. "He never should have done that though. He must have really been out of it to be that stupid."

I noted that all three were very pale, maybe as pale as I.

"Well, are we going to go fight him?" Hermione whispered.

I nodded, sticking out my chin in an arrogant fashion, trying to block out the visions of my death. At this point, I didn't care who went with me, just as long as we finished him.

"I'm sure he'll be glad to see you..." Ron sighed. He was talkative, scared.

"I doubt he even remembers." I spat.

"But he was the best Death Eater."

I shrugged. "Yes, but do you think Voldemort wants to remember something like that? No."

He heaved a loud sigh and fingered his wand. As did Harry and Hermione.

"Who's going to open the door?" I asked finally when we reached it.

"I will..." Harry walked up and slammed into it as hard as he could. He stumbled back, swearing under his breath. "It won't open..."

"Try this." Hermione walked up. "Alohomora." It opened almost instantly.

"The greatest wizard of all times uses a simple charm to lock the door?" I rolled my eyes.

"You're in a sarcastic mood today..." Ron grumbled.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't be?"

"We're all going to die."

"Ron, always the pessimist." Harry swung the door all the way open and took a step in.

There was yet another long hallway, this one lit by dim green candles giving off a blackish glow. I wondered just how long they have been here. Half an hour? Seemed right. 

How long would it take for us to die? 

A minute? 

How much of our lives would be for nothing?

All of it.

Everyone fell into utter silence as we entered the dimly lit hallway. It seemed to reach out forever, never letting us go. I almost wanted it too, then I wouldn't have to throw my life away, but the last words I said to my father echoed in my head, forcing my feet to move despite the fact I knew it was the last time I would ever walk again.

"This is it..." Harry muttered as we arrived at yet another door.

"Shall we pray?" Hermione whispered.

She got a rather odd stare from Harry at that statement. "The Dursleys never went to church."

"Do you know how to, Ron?"

"Yes..."

"I do." I said suddenly.

"But you're Goth." Harry said loudly.

"I am not, My father didn't want me growing up Goth, so he converted." I snapped.

"But doesn't Malfoy mean bad faith?" Ron asked.

"What's your point?"

Hermione sighed, interrupting us. I realized just how anxiety can cause people to be irritable. 

Harry kicked the door open. "I'm here Voldemort!" he shouted, breaking the blackened silence.

"I see you have not come alone..." a soft voice hissed from the darkness. A sudden glow of light appeared at his wand tip. It was night, at the top of the tower, and windy. The light was almost useless.

"I am not." Harry said. I could hear the tension, and nearly see it, in the air.

"A mudblood, a muggle lover, and ah, Draco. I didn't expect to see you here." He said, sounding rather unpleased.

"You don't expect much, do you?" I growled. Hermione gasped. I scowled, realizing exactly how much people underestimate my courage. Maybe it's not courage. Maybe it's just stupidity.

"Take the girl." Voldemort suddenly flung Cho at Ron, who caught her and smiled weakly.

She moaned and rolled over, starring up at him. "Get me the hell away from here." She said quietly. "I can't stand to look at that murderer any longer!" her last words rose to a shout, and she stood up and reached for her wand. "I'll kill you! You killed Cedric! I'll get you someday!" she raised her wand dangerously. "Avada Kedav...." she suddenly collapsed.

"Did you just kill her?" Hermione gasped, stumbling back in horror.

"She fainted." Ron said tightly. He was laughing, for some reason unknown. I glanced down at the small Asian girl on the ground, her black cape and short black hair billowing out around her.

"Ron? Hermione? Draco? Get her out of here. I have to deal with this myself." Harry sighed, pulling out his wand.

"No, we can't leave you." Hermione cried. 

"Yea, Harry. We're friends." Ron whispered, looking serious again. "We can't lave you here to die alone."

"Yes you can. I can't bear it if I know that I killed you two."

"And what about me?" I ran my finger over the flat of the sword.

Hermione took a deep breath. "If you want to be alone and us to be safe, at least let Draco stand by you." 

I jerked my head up and stared at her, squinting in the darkness. "Why?"

"I'm waiting..." Voldemort hissed. "I'll kill all five of you right now."

"GO!" Harry shoved then away and glared at me, forcing me to back up. "Now." He growled, his eyes filled with fear and rage.

Hermione suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me away. For some odd reason, I didn't resist. 

I had failed.

As soon as we reached the hall, Hermione burst into tears. "Shut up." I snapped. "We're not going anywhere. At the first scream of pain, I'm breaking down that damn door and running Voldie through." I raised my sword, wondering if I meant it. 

"Since when do you care about Harry?" Ron asked.

"I don't. I care about my father." 

"Draco, he's dead. Get over it."

"SHUT UP!" I shouted in sudden anger. "Look..." I shoved him in the chest. "Harry is doing this to avenge his dead parents. I want to avenge my dead father. He died for me, saving me from Voldemort. I'm not going to let Voldemort run free. I'm beyond the point of caring whether I live or die. I just want revenge..." 

At this point, Cho woke up. "Draco?" she asked woozily and rolled out of Ron's arms. She stood up for a few minutes, then fainted again.

"I think we better get her to the hospital wing..." Hermione muttered, avoiding my eyes.

"I agree. I nominate you." I pointed to Ron, just to get him out of the way. He was another obstacle to get by to Voldemort.

Hermione nodded slowly, her lip quivering again.

"Fine. I'll leave my best friend to die and let you two lovebirds make out in the hall. Goodbye." He turned on his heel and stalked off, scooping up Cho as he went.

Hermione shouted something after him. but I wasn't listening. I was too busy trying to make out what he had said. I was out of it again.

"What did he say?" I asked finally.

"You do not want to know." She snapped and turned toward the door. "You ready to cut this off the hinges?"

I sighed loudly.

"Well? I'm not staying here any longer, not after what he said. I'll show him..."

"O, I know what he said now..." I sighed again, rolling my eyes. What did it matter if he thought we were in love? We weren't so screw him.

"Took you long enough, now open it."

I raised my sword above my head and slammed it against the wooden door. Nothing happened.

"You're bleeding!" Hermione yelped.

"What?" I stared at my sword. It was coated in blood again. "That's not mine..." I starred for a long time.

"Wait! I remember reading something about those swords. The four founders of Hogwarts had swords, and when someone important was about to do something important, it bled the blood of the founder."

"What?" I said, drawing yet another blank. I was starting to feel like the biggest idiot.

"Jeez, Draco. It means you're important!" she cried,

"You know? For somebody who hates me, you make a good job of acting like you like me. No wonder Ron..."

At that point, she raised her hand to slap me, but I ducked. This was a bigger mistake, for the ground was covered in blood. Blood is slippery.

"Damn!" I shouted, slipping and falling, smashing my shin against the now splintered door. I kicked Hermione in the foot by accident, causing her to fall onto me.

"You stupid!" she gasped, sitting up on my stomach and punching me in the chest.

"Get off of me..." I cried. "We have to get to Voldemort!" She stiffened and jumped up, enabling me to move again.

I sighed raising my now slippery sword. I landed it with another crash against the door, splintering it in two.

The sight within was enough to make one cry.

Hermione let out a deafening shriek at the scene. There was a huge snake, lying on the ground. It was writhing in intense pain. Off to the side slightly, dodging every coil, was Harry. He was obviously stabbed in the side by something, for his whole left side was bleeding everywhere.

"What the hell?" I gasped as Hermione raced over to him. Without thinking, I jumped forward and slashed out at the snake that could only be Voldemort. He recoiled and transformed, becoming his so-called human form again.  
Hermione was immediately as Harry's side, who had collapsed as soon as Voldemort had backed off.

Voldemort was laughing. "He is dead!"

"Shut up!" Hermione cried. "He is not!"

Harry struggled to sit up. "Hermione, listen. I am dying, as he is. I used the killing curse on him. He will die soon, seeing as it will take time for he is powerful..."

"We can get you to the hospital wing!" Hermione cried frantically.

"No..."

At that moment, Ron raced in. "O my god!" he cried and slid into place beside Hermione.

I ignored Voldemort for a second and wandered over. "Are you all right?" I asked blandly, wondering what I should do.

"Draco?' he asked.

"What?" I said. Ron glared at me, as if I was taking away precious seconds of his friends life. I was.

"I want to tell you something..." he gasped inhaling deeply and shuddering. I hesitated in answering. 

"Deal with me last, OK? Your friends are more important then me." I said finally.

Hermione smiled and Ron smacked me on the back. Harry attempted a shrug.

I turned away and slid off, not wanting to listen in on what he was telling his friends. I was not as nosy as I once was. I knew I would just die if anybody heard my father's last words to me.

After nearly five minutes, Ron called me over. I unintentionally ran over, sliding on the blood again.

"What?" I whispered.

"I just want to tell you." He gasped. "That even though we've spent the last seven years hating each other.....That I think you're the best rival I've ever had."

I gasped.

"No. Seriously. I mean, you're the one who kept pushing me to do better to beat you at all costs. I've stopped Voldemort a few times, thinking he was you, knowing that if you were caught, you'd get in trouble."

I stared.

He took another deep breath. "And if we had made friends at the start, I might have become a Slytherin to be with my only friend." Ron started at this. "And then I never would have discovered the secret at the end of the third corridor. Voldemort would have arisen earlier, and I would be dead far sooner then this. So, this is it. Better friends in the end then not..." he held out his hand. I hesitantly took it. Hermione burst into tears and Ron turned away, a silent tear trickling down his face.

Without thinking, I nodded. "You're the only real friends I've ever had. Thank you." I stood up abruptly and glanced over at Voldemort. He was glaring at us, his eyes glowing with malice.

Harry coughed and Hermione kissed the top of his head. Then he fell silent and slid back, his eyes closing forever. I, unlike Ron and Hermione managed to avoid the tears threatening to fall. But then again, I had never really known him. But the thing I did know was that he was glad that he had seriously wounded his enemy. I also knew three other things about his death.

Never again would he torment me.

Never again would I torment him.

Never again would he go hang out with Ron and Hermione at Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.

And it was all for the same reason that I would never again see my father alive.

"Now I have another thing to throw my life away for." I scowled, then lunged at Voldemort.

"You're a stupid boy." He hissed.

"Why?" I snapped.

"You know why I killed Harry?"

I didn't answer, knowing he was trying to distract me. He had yet another sword. So I had to keep my guard up.

"I killed him because I knew that someday he might kill the last of the Slytherins."

"Who might that be? You? Looks like you may die anyway."

"No. You. And Lucius."

I yelped and dropped my dagger. I realized my mistake almost too late and had to drop to my knees to avoid the green light that shot from his wand tip.

"You lie!" I roared, grabbing it and jumping up.

"No, it's true. If I hadn't killed him, he would have killed you in time. If Lucius hadn't changed you, that is..."

Then he suddenly grabbed my arm and flung me against the wall. Not for the first time, I was mad that I was less then one hundred pounds. He then slammed me up against it, leaving my back open to him. I was trapped, good as dead.

He pointed his sword between my shoulder blades and pushed very slightly. "Give me back my sword." He hissed.

"No..." I gasped, trying to find air that just wasn't there, seeing as I was crushed against the wall.

"I'll kill you right now then." He pushed harder. I could feel blood run down my back, it was disgustingly cold, how strange. I knew it was mine, but why was it cold? Was I really that evil? But this wasn't the time for that...I gritted my teeth, thinking. Would my father want me to die like this? It didn't hurt yet, but knowing him, he'd draw it out as long as possible until I was screaming in agony.

"Damn you." I whispered, letting my anger take over. It was for the best. I suddenly swung out with my arm and stabbed him in the side. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to make him drop me. I crumpled to the ground, gasping for that much needed air. But I only had a second. He was standing up again, grinning. Daring me to hurt him again, if that first hit had even hurt.

I lunged again. For some reason, he didn't try to move. It plunged into his side and he fell.

I smirked and turned away. I wondered if he was lying or not, I'd never know now. Suddenly, Ron shouted and something hit me in the leg. I gasped and fell to the ground, clutching my shin, which was now blood-covered. A huge gash just below the knee was oozing. I hissed and covered it up as best I could.

Voldemort grinned, holding his sword. Then, as soon as I had my guard down, he hit me in the side.

I had never felt such intense pain in my life. It was overpowering, covering my mine in the red. Drowning in the red sea.

"Draco!" Hermione called. "It's not fatal. Get up! Fight!"

It felt fatal. I could barely move for the pain. I coughed up blood and struggled to stand. But my leg was too weak. I picked up my dagger and faced Voldemort.

"You know," he grinned. I guess he knew I was going to kill him before I myself died. He was stalling.

"What?" I said, unable to resist.

"You and your father were very much alike Draco. Nearly exact...true pity, really it is. If only you'd gotten to know him better. Instead of hating and fearing him, shying away, when all he wanted to do was love you."

With a shriek of rage I plunged the dagger straight through his heart. Blood the color of dried blood surged out, coating my hands and the rocks beneath. I staggered back and watched his writhing body.

He was Voldemort. The greatest wizard of all time.

And he was dying.

Because of me.

"All's hell that ends hell, you filthy bastard..." I spat on his now still body. His life was hell, making everyone else's so. He deserved the death I had given him.

Then the truth of what he had told me sunk in. This, unlike the thing he had aid earlier, was most definitely true. My father had loved me, and I had never loved him. He had died for me, and I had avenged him. But that wasn't enough.

The pain in my side suddenly intensified. I remembered what Hermione had said about it not being fatal. She was right. It wasn't fatal. But Voldemort's last words were.

I closed my eyes and let the dark close into my mind, possibly forever...A sensation of falling came over me, and I knew no more.

"Wake up. I can't stand to lose another one today..." somebody sobbed. Hermione? 

I gasped and struggled to open my eyes, but couldn't. Too heavy, I was not strong enough. "I thought I was dead..." I whispered.

"No...not yet anyway..." Ron.

"Don't say that! He'll live! Unlike Harry..." I could feel a tear of hers drop onto my face. I shuddered. Then I opened my eyes, and to my relief they opened. Hermione's head was now on my chest, and she was sobbing helplessly. I could barely remember what had happened. There was intense pain in my side and in my mind. 

"What?" I said.

"Remember? Harry died, and you killed Voldemort..." Ron whispered.

I rolled over onto my back and spat out the blood in my mouth. It was all coming back.

"You tried to die. You stopped breathing for a while there." Ron sighed. "What did Voldemort say to you back there that caused you to kill him?"

Then I remembered. I buried my face in my hands.

Ron and Hermione fell silent.

I cried silently, the tears slipping down my face, wiping away the blood. I let those tears of sadness and anger slip away. The tears of love and hatred. The tears I had kept hidden from myself ever since the death of my father.

I cried for Harry, my only real friend in the end.

I cried for Voldemort, the one of whose blood I was covered in.

But most of all, I cried for my father.

My father.

The one I never properly loved.

A/N- This is a little rushed. Sorry, and sorry it wasn't anywhere near as angsty as the first one, was it? I don't think so. O well...


End file.
